You're Late
by AndShowMeTheStars
Summary: ["You're late," she says, with her face still buried against his shoulder. But she says it through her grin—not really caring now that he's actually here.] Whouffle one-shot.


Clara runs to the TARDIS faster than she thinks she's ever moved in her life. Autumn leaves are spiraling in her wake, her hair is flying every which way, and people are staring—but that doesn't stop her. Nothing can stop her. Because this past week-long trip (on which the Doctor has chosen to fly solo) has no doubt been accidental in length when considering the fact that she was promised a visit another planet four days ago. The day he can land the TARDIS at the right place and time the first time around will be nothing short of a miracle…But she's far too excited to be cross about it; never before has she realized just how attuned she is to the sound of the little blue box that isn't so little on the inside.

She has the doors open in seconds, and they've barely shut behind her before she's at the console where the Doctor is idly twisting a few knobs and pressing a couple of buttons. But he looks up when she's standing by his side, with a small smile on her face that she can't suppress. His smile matches hers, and she throws her arms around him—she's missed this. She's missed him.

"You're late," she says, with her face still buried against his shoulder. But she says it through her grin—not really caring now that he's actually here.

"Ah, about that," he answers. And then he launches into some long explanation about a wrong turn in another constellation four hundred years in the future where bow ties were _very _out of style, that might have involved fifty fish-like aliens that have the entire sky as their ocean. And she's about seventy percent sure that he's adding to the story because he hadn't known till she told him that he is, indeed, four days late...but still she can only laugh.

Because she knows she can listen to his stories all day.

"I guess you'll just have to find a way to make it up to me, then," Clara says with an expectant look that's borderline mischievous, once she's stepped away from him and is facing him once more. She then concludes, "You owe me two planets now. In one day."

She watches as the Doctor's face contorts—the way it always does when she (or anyone, for that matter) says something a bit too absurd. His eyes narrow slightly, and he opens his mouth to say something, but can't quite get the words out, so he opens and closes it for a few more seconds before saying, "Oh, no. No, no, no—two planets in one day?"

"It's a time machine. We can do anything in one day, yeah?" Clara answers, as she shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it carelessly on top of the console. The TARDIS responds with a sharp _whirring _noise that of course is, with no doubt, a huff of annoyance.

Ignoring the Doctor's protests about leaving her jacket where it is (how the TARDIS has ever come to like his spontaneous, quirky companion, one may never know), Clara turns from him and proceeds to walk around the console, fussing with as many of the levers and buttons as she pleases while she continues, "We can jump back to yesterday, see the world in ten years, visit a different galaxy, take a trip to the moon just for good measure, and still be back in time for dinner…And you know what? I think that sounds like a _much _better adventure than just two planets."

The Doctor is so busy trying to argue his point about _not _traveling to all of those places that he almost forgets to put all those levers and buttons back to their proper settings. But once he does, and Clara has finally spun around to face him once more, it takes him even longer to realize that she's laughing hysterically.

"What?" the Doctor asks, with blatant confusion, "Am I missing something important here?"

"No, Silly," Clara grins.

He continues to look at her like she's from another planet. Which she _is_, of course (to him, anyway) from another planet. But right now he's thinking that maybe—

"_Gotcha_."

And it takes a little less time for this to sink in, but when it finally does, the Doctor makes a face, "Ha ha. Very funny. You got me."

But he's not annoyed. No—he could never stay cross with her, and she knows it all too well.

"One planet, then," Clara insists, crossing her arms with a hint of satisfaction, "Which one did you have in mind a week ago?"

"Why don't you step outside and see for yourself?" the Doctor answers, catching Clara off guard.

Because, of course, she'd been so intent on finding ways to mess with him that she hadn't even notice that he'd pressed a few more buttons than she'd managed to play with; she's had absolutely no idea, until now, that they've actually moved.

"What's out there?" she asks, all joking aside and replaced with pure excitement.

"Maybe it's a two hundred years in the future on a planet that has ten suns that all rise and set at different times," the Doctor tells her.

And she smiles; bites her lip slightly in anticipation. She loves new places. New people. New adventures…

"Or maybe it's Earth. Present day and time, and the local coffee shop will have to suffice for one day's adventure," the Doctor finishes. Because two can play a game like this.

Clara just isn't expecting it.

Again.

And for a moment, she's caught—surprised, but for a different reason. Because she's suddenly not quite sure which adventure she'd like more. Whichever one is out there—a brand new planet, or coffee with her favorite person in the world (or in _any _world, for that matter)—she knows they're equal in nearly all aspects.

Which one, truly, would Clara want more?

But she hides this abrupt uncertainty behind another teasing tone; leaves it as an emotion to unravel on another day, instead of during this one that she'd rather just leave to enjoy the way it is: "Oi! If it's coffee, then it had better be on the moon. So don't you push it now, or I might ask for three planets next time!"

And with that, she opens the TARDIS doors to reveal the adventure that lies in store, leaving a faintly laughing Doctor to follow closely behind.

* * *

**A/n:** Just a little Whouffle one-shot :)


End file.
